| Tuesday |
| first aid |
It is 7:30am on a tuesday morning. My eyelids are as heavy as lead as i broad the heated and packed connex train, reluctantly making my way into town for an 8am start to a long uni day ahead. Thoughts of coffee and caffeine and chocolate swivelled round and round in my mind as i rested my sleepy eyes, whilst standing. After a few stations, i very very unwillingly opened my eyes, turn to the right and noticed a women glaring at me. OMG whatthehell?!?! i thought, then something in me tweeked and i sensed trouble. I cringed and politely diverted my gaze out the window.
Then it happened and i caught the action with the corner of my eye.
The young lady fell backwards and collapsed amongst a sea of business-attired men and women, each too busy and wrapped up in their thoughts to realise what had fallen onto them. The collapsed but concious lady lay there on the floor, straining her neck muscles to hold her head up against gravity, glaring down her line of sight; which was directly at me. I felt uneasy. Amongst the crowd, i heard a middle-aged man's voice blurt out "Is there a doctor here?" No response. No one moved.
I stood there for a glimpse of a second, thinking that someone more experienced than myself would pop out of nowhere and help this lady, that i probably wasn't capable of dealing with an emergency. But whatthefuck, no one moved - not even to make room for the sick lady. I dashed passed a few seats, crouched down and made sure she was breathing.
Me: "Are you okay?"
No response.
Me: "Can you talk to me?"
Lady: small trembling nod.
Me: "Can you tell me your name?"
Lady: "Natasha."
Me: "Natasha, have you got any medications on you?"
Natasha: "No.."
Me: "Do you know what happened?"
Natasha: disorientated
Me: "Are you still feeling light headed or dizzy?"
Natasha: "A little"
Me: "Here, (making a little cushion with her trench coat), lie down are rest your head. Bend your knees, that'll help a little." Have you eaten this morning?
Natasha: "Yeah"
Me: "It's probably because of the heat in here, make sure you get plenty of water and don't get up too quickly."
Natasha: "Thanks."
All of a sudden i felt like i had a pair of wings on my back. (hehe..no, not really, but i just really wanted to say that) As much as i was disappointed and almost to the stage that i was annoyed at the reactions of other passengers, and in awe at the fact that no-one attempted to help out, i was quietly proud at how i managed the situation so calmly and steadily. All those CPR dreams must've helped out.
As i made my way to the exit at my station, a young man caught my sight. "Good work back there," he complimented. I thanked him with a smile and left. |
posted by sciurine @ 10:39 PM   |
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| Sunday |
| a harsh job underlying a beautiful title |
Since i have nothing better to do with what little time i have left since recommencing uni and work *cough cough*, i decided to take on an important volunteer position with the FINA World Championships which starts in three weeks time. I am appointed as the Team Liasion Assistant for the Chinese and Macau synchronised swimming teams. I should feel privileged, honoured, and proud to hold such an important position, acting as an embassador for my birth country, but oddly, i'm actually a little afraid that i might not be able to do a good job at it and live up to the expectations.
I attended two training sessions this week, a volunteer induction session and a role specific training, both of which overwhelmed me - in particular, the role specific training gave me a small freight, after which my definition of "assistant" changed dramatically.
I am appointed as the team leader/liasion assistant for China and Macau, despite my inadequate and relatively poor ability to speak mandarin. Initially, i thought this position only required me to assist, as the title would falsely suggest, but i unfortunately underestimated my own significance. On arrival to the training session, i was greeted with a folder thick of information regarding my role and responsibilities - a folder that i must revise and memorise completely before the commencement of the World Championships, on top of my ridiculous uni workload.
To put it harshly, a team liasion assistant is equivalent of a slave; in my case, i'm a slave for the chinese and macau synchronised swimming team for 2 weeks. I need to organise my contacts with them, phone them on arrival, meet with their team coach and manager, ensure their full knowledge with all championship procedures, direct them to training sessions, take them on a venue tour, and even do their paper work and make sure everything is on time - to the second.
I have been in leadership positions before, but always with someone overlooking me, ensuring everything runs smoothly and to protocols. This time, i am alone. I need to make contacts myself, organise times myself, and ensure everything runs smoothly, myself. As you may be able to tell from the tone of this post, i am freaking out as much as i am looking forward to it. But no doubt, this will be a wonderful opportunity. |
| posted by sciurine @ 2:10 PM |
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| vista magic |
Normally i'm a really stubborn person and when i decide on something, no one can change my mind. But recently, my indecisiveness in a major investment that will draw a huge crater in my savings account have frustrated me, and pushed me to my limits. Two months ago i said i'll buy a laptop. Within those two months, i switched from wanting to purchase a PC instead, back to laptop, then to PC, and then, last week i told myself i'll put the thought on hold.
Impulsive as i am, yesterday i woke up and drove out to Elsternwick to buy myself the Asus F3JP laptop. I have no idea what came over me and i still do not know, but either way, the purchase is made and my account savings have dropped so dramatically that it's depressing to even think about it. I better get good use out of this little expensive gadget.
Suffice for uni purposes, this 15.4" LCD wide screen comes with the currently unbeatable Intel Core2Duo, 1GB RAM, 80GB HDD, ATIX1700 graphics, bluetooth and all the other fancy features, plus a pre-installed version of the new and latest overly-excited and overly-advertised Windows accomplishment - Windows Vista Home Premium. Being haplessly incompetent with even the most basic of basic computer knowledge, i had to spend two months researching before even understanding what RAM was for, let alone understanding the purpose of Windows making yet another huge memory-comsuming upgrade. Now i understand.
With this new upgrade, you get a fancy windows media centre for high-class theatre style viewing of recorded tv programs, DVD, music downloads, radio systems and gaming devices. Along with which is vibrant outstanding colour and graphics quality, fade in-and-out screen changes, analogue clock on display and a high-speed easy-to-use search engine. It offers parental feautres such as set curfews and restricted R access to certain websites - which obviously doesn't affect me - and an upgraded version of virus protection for the notebook.
Is it worth the upgrade? i hear you mutter. My verdict through research and first-hand experience, don't bother if you are getting the normal vista home basic - aptly named as it literally is so basic to the point that there is no point. If you are considering, get Home premium but make sure memory on your system is suffice, and if you are purchasing a new PC, why not get vista with it...
Two months ago, i had no idea what RAM was... and my advice in the previous paragraph only goes to show how much crap can be published on websites and reviews from those who know so little...
P.S. i must extend my thanks to ROE for making my purchase possible |
| posted by sciurine @ 1:34 PM |
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| Friday |
| reasons to vent |
I am immensely saddened by my failure to blog as much as I had hoped to recently. I blame it on uni. There is no point in complaining, but, what the heck, I’m going to anyway. Uni is expecting us to pre-read and post-read chunk-load of journal articles and lengthy chapters in textbooks on a weekly basis. By chunk-load, I mean, if we read two articles per night, roughly two hours on each, seven nights a week, I will fall behind – which is exactly the situation I am in right now.
I purchased two textbooks a few hours ago, adding up to approximately $AU200. Why I need to buy them when there’s a library, you may ask… well, unfortunately there’s plenty of selfish dickheads roaming around the biomedical library, cleverly looking well ahead of lecture dates and getting the books before us, and cunningly hiding textbooks on obscure shelves on a different storey. And ‘cause I haven’t been able to get to the books or even find them in the first place amongst other self-inflicted excuses, I am almost seven chapters behind. Mind you, it’s only the second week back.
Okay, enough of complaining.
Actually, give me couple more paragraphs.
Full of energy and enthusiasm to catch up with school work, I very diligently gave myself a good sleep last night, visit the GP and then go into uni early to study for a few hours before work. As luck would have it, my train was delayed by 10mins. That was fine. But when it eventually arrived and we hopped on, the ‘express’ train slowly crawled its way into town along the railways at an estimated 20km/h. Think of a car running so low on fuel that it can only manage another kilometer: that was how slow the train was. I could’ve cycled faster than it. First, I thought that must be just for this station, but NO, it crawled for another few more k’s, then an announcement came through:
“Folks, I usually don’t cruise around at this speed, but there is a malfunctioning axial thing on the front of this train and it is not safe to go any faster than this. In fact, it is not safe even at this speed. Bear with it for the mean time and we will be terminating at Caufield.”
What the Hell?! I’m not surprised that there’s yet another malfunctioning of a connex train, but I am deeply shocked that I didn’t get to hear, “Connex apologises for any inconvenience caused.” They apologise so often that the apology has become meaningless – in fact, it’s almost a joke now:
Last year, I walk into PBL late:
Other group members: “oooh…late are we?”
Me: “Connex apologises.”
So, after an hour and ten minutes trip into town (that should’ve taken 25mins), I rocked up 45mins late to my appointment and 2 hours late for my pre-planned study time. I wonder if I can possibly sue connex for interruption of my studies… |
| posted by sciurine @ 5:24 PM |
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| Thursday |
| love-hearts? |
It seems that every article I pick up close to or on the very special day of Valentine are either published out of hatred or are completely underestimating the significance of the occasion. Me? As with every other girl, Valentine’s Day is probably one that’s marked on my calendar if I had a date, but this year, I chose to erase it with a thick black texa.
Firstly, how many of you actually know how Valentine’s Day came about? In short, it’s a legend about Saint Valentine conducted marriages for couples during the period of time the Roman Empire set the law that all young men should remain single. Saint Valentine refused to obey and was sentenced to death. Before he died, he wrote a note and signed it off with “From Your Valentine” to a girl who visited him regularly whilst he was imprisoned. He died on February 14.
It’s strange how we would even think of celebrating his death, and even more weird if you ask me how roses and chocolates came about. Today, Valentine’s is simply a day where Cabury, Lindt and florists are entitled to escalate their RRP ten times, guys aren’t laughed at for carrying flowers, public smooching is cool, gifts are exchanged and restaurants make big bucks. But for those without a date, it’s an uneasy day on public transport, particularly during dinner time when everyone is paired up, a day where you feel lonely and depressed.
So what’s so good about such an occasion? Guys seem to get all caught up and frustrated with the organisation for the day, to impress their lady, to buy the right gift, and to the right things. As for girls, I must say we’ve got the easy part of sitting and mentally preparing ourselves for the big surprise. Well, as for comfort to the boys out there, you really don’t need to bog down on the nitty gritty stuff; a simple morning kiss, surprise her with some flowers and/or chocolates, take her for a picnic and perhaps a stroll along the coastline and drive her home. It’s the time together that counts – or perhaps I’m just too simple: It’s the simple things in life we forget – Usher.
Allow me to ask this silly question, why a heart?
Who the heck chose an ugly bodily organ, all gooey, mooshed up and covered with yellow fatty clogged up atherosclerotic vessels to be a symbol of such great significance? Further more, there is no resemblance whatsoever between the symbol and our real organ. For argument sake, what’s wrong with the pancreas or liver; also essential parts of our body, it’s function is as complex and mysterious as love itself. |
| posted by sciurine @ 12:38 AM |
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| Monday |
| it hurt me more than her |
I knew it would've been silly for us to hang on and make her hang in there; i knew it was time to let go, but however much i tried to mentally prepare myself for it, it was still not enough to stop the tears from flowing this morning.
My heart beat quicker than usual waking up to the alarm. It must've been some sort of biological system kicking in, attempting to calm my nerves or something. I rushed to get ready, hoping to spend as much time with her before leaving. I thought i was fine. I rehearsed it all mentally last night, and the night before; wake up, wash face, eat breakfast, put her into the car, drive off, fill in the forms, walk out and go to uni. But i came to pieces as i walked out into the backyard and called for her. She waddled, slowly, but happily to me, lightly panting after bathing in the early morning sun on the dirt. She looked fine; she's not ready to leave us, i thought.
I gave her a nice big cuddle, and guided her out into my car. She straddled very slowly behind me, and couldn't managed jumping into the car. Her tail continued to wag though. I think her experience would have been similar to that of the prisoner off the green mile - at least for the prisoner, he knew what was awaitng him. For lucki, she didn't even know this morning was her last day at home, with her family, and in this world - for all she knew, she could've been anticipating a nice morning stroll in the park.
I told myself to be strong. I convinced myself that this is the best thing i can offer lucky - to relieve her of the pain and agony she was going through. But i broke down when the Vet asked me a rhetorical question; "so you decided to put her down?" To that i replied with a muffled hum, burying my forehead into lucki, who was resting comfortably on the metal plinth. The vet kindly left the room for lucki and i to have out last moment together, during which lucki was as lively as ever. She twitched and turned, rested in my arms and licked my hand. If only we could all be so clueless.
The vet returned with a syringe filled with a green general anesthetic. She shaved a portion of lucki's fur on her leg for a clear view of the injection point. Lucki hated it, and i was so glad i was there to comfort her. I held her close to me , resting against my chest and in my arms as the deadly green liquid pumped in and around her body, paralysing her muscles, and soon her hind legs weakened and i caught her weight with my hands. She rested nicely on the metal table, panting. Unexpectedly, the vet yanked out another syringe, another one filled with the same green poison. The panting progressively slowed to a halt as the second dose flowed through her veins, and her nose stopped wiggling. No longer did she need to endure the pain of the massive cancerous lump that was munching away her flesh. She rested, in peace.
As hard as it was to be present during the euthansia, i think that was the last thing lucki could have asked me to do for her. It probably hurt me more than the injection hurt her, but i can't imagine leaving her in the hands of a stranger during her last moment and facing death alone - just like what my family did to me, i am made to endure this pain alone. Though i was a peaceful death, i believe she needed me there by her side to cuddle her and to comfort her - and i didn't let her down.
More than a friend.It is so hard letting you go.
6th November 1998 - 12th February 2007
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| posted by sciurine @ 8:53 PM |
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| Tuesday |
| the tough decision coming to a close |
Recalling my post a few months ago about my dog's condition, today, i have made the decision. However much i hate to decide on such issues, i knew that i'm the only one in the family who's willing to say anything about it.
After a few deep breaths, i picked up the phone and dialed my Vet's number. A lady picked up on the other line and i jumped straight to the question, trying hard to sound brave (yes, sometimes i hate being seen as weak), "I've taken my dog in to see the vet a few times. She's got cancer, and it's progressing really quickly. She's in pain, and isn't coping well anymore. I'm considering euthanasia and i want to enquire about the options."
The kind receptionist over the phone gave me a calm spiel, assuring me that the procedure is incredibly painless, i quote, and simply an overdose of general anaesthetic with which Lucki will literally fall asleep. She informed me on the packages they offered, the costs and the opportunity for me to be present at the time of euthanasia. I didn't reply to that one - I'm considering being by her side as she leaves me, but i don't know whether i can handle the pain, considering that tears are welling up as i'm typing this out.
I don't know what i'm supposed to be feeling nor what i'm supposed to do. Please enlighten me. |
| posted by sciurine @ 5:24 PM |
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| the open experience |
As a program seller, my position required me to stand and yell for 4.5 hours every shift with a mere 15 min break in between, just enough to queue up for relieving the bladder then return back to my stand and work. Daunting it may sound, but fortunately with my intelligence and highly trained bumming abilities, that only applied for my first shift, there after, i quickly learnt ways to escape work whilst appearing to be working. Let me explain.
Selling program is potentially a dreadful task when you don't know the tricks of the trade, as i put it. It's not all laughs and fun when you spend almost 5 hours standing on a red stand with a program book held up high in the air, while you scream out, "Official programs for $15, players profiles, feature articles, honour's roles, food discounts, everything you need to know, here for $15!" Then 30 seconds later, you yell out the same content in a different order.
Often tennis fans either
1. Grease you off as if you are an idiot
2. completely ignore you even when you go up to them and greet them personally
3. subtly formulate a semicircle around your stand away from your ear-piercing attempts at selling, or worse,
4. stare at you for a little while then laugh in your face
After a few hours, you quickly learn that selling programs is about tactics and the amount of books you sell that day is certainly not proportional to how much effort you put into yelling. And then you pick up the idea that there are ways to make a daunting day fun:
1. When fans grease you off, you laugh in their face.
2. To the fans who deliberately and rudely ignore you, you laugh in their face, or chase after them and annoy them even more until you get a response, good or bad.
3. When yelling into the crowd gets boring, yell at your selling buddy and start a fight - simliar to the "penis" game where you try to out-yell one another.
4.Those who embrass you by laughing in your face, you laugh louder and stronger at them until their laughter cease.
5. When sales go down, yell out, "They're going like hot cakes, this is your only chance to get one now. Only $15!" even when it is blindly obvious how many unopened boxes are piled up behind you.
6. Cease yelling and working to chat when supervisors disappear around the corner. Keep an eye out for when they return.
7. Make conversations with supervisors. Smile and nod at them even when the conversation goes in one ear and out the other, and try hard to laugh at their attempts to be funny.
8. Instead of wasting 10 minutes queuing up in the bathroom, pay a visit to your bar friends and score free pizza and coffee during your break, return to your stand and eat and drink in front of buddied up supervisors, then ask for a toilet break later that shift - trust me, they won't refuse if you act desperate enough.
9. Amuse yourself by craving into cardboard boxes with stanley knives.
10. Drink lots of water in front of the supervisors and act tired at the end of your shift, pretending that you have worked oh so hard, even if you have the energy to line up 2 hours at the garnier line as soon as you sign out.
Following my own ten commandments, the 10 shifts i worked at the Aus Open actually turned out really well, despite the sweltering heat and chilling cold weather conditions. At the same time i worked at the aus open, i managed to juggle my usual reception job at the clinic simultaneously. I'd jump from one job to the other, some days working a total of 14 hours, waking to the early morning sun and returning home well after sunset. But entangled in all the mess and physical exhaustion, i have come to realise the significance of the existence of coffee in this busy little world of mine. I literally thrived on hot caffeinated drinks even when purchasing one and waiting in line meant i'd arrive late to work.
The two weeks came to a perfect ending when i found out that i was one of the top 12 sellers, scoring a movie ticket pass and further possibly job opportunities along with the almost $400 worth of clothing, which come to prove my mastery in subtle and useful bludging techniques. |
| posted by sciurine @ 3:49 PM |
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| Monday |
| yes, i'm tired |
I landed back onto dry melbourne soil after a week in brisbane yesterday morning, only to find myself dashing around clumsily and sleepily, trying to prepare myself for uni today.
warning: you will laugh at this one
I came home from uni today and hit the sacks at 5:30pm. I rolled over, twitched and jolted up when the big red digital clock in my face read 7:02. Crap, uni today. Do i start at 8am or 9am. Shit, i'm late. I forced myself to roll off the bed; which was the only way that i'd actually get up, and stood there in the midst of my chaotic room staring out my window, as you do when you're late. Strangely, there was no hint of a glaring summer's sunrise, instead the sunbeams resembled what i have learnt to be sunset. It took me a good few seconds to realise, after which of course, i flopped back into bed and rested my eyes.
I thought i needed an alarm clock that would release a hammer and hit my head when the alarm goes off; now, i need a twenty-four hour clock with a hammer.
P.S. thanks for the pressie nelly, you know me better than i know myself!
Still yet to come are posts about my work at aus open and brissy trip. Stay tuned, and i must extend a warm apology to those who have been visiting my boring unchanged blog these couple of weeks! |
| posted by sciurine @ 9:06 PM |
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| ABOUT |
Thoughts, ...flowing slowly and gracefully, ...awakening the senses, ...keeping you up in the night, I sometimes wonder why people write. To express? To reflect? To be heard? I write, to free myself from a world of thoughts.
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